Horrendous
by Bandito Sun
Summary: He was an odd boy, there was no denying that. Yet as a viking he was simply an antithesis. But beneath the sarcastic, nihilistic attitude was something deeply wrong. Hiccup truly lives up to his middle name. Dark Hiccup/OOC/slight deviation from film.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Warning- what you are about to read contains a very OOC Hiccup as well as several deviations from the movie. The Hiccup in this story is bitter, cynical and kind of mean. Just something that popped into my head one day. It'll be a short fic, probably 3 chapters, not including the following prologue. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD nor am I associated with Dreamworks in anyway.**

**Horrendous**

**Summary: He was an odd boy, there was no denying that. Yet as a viking he was simply an antithesis. But beneath the sarcastic, nihilistic attitude was something deeply wrong. Hiccup truly lives up to his middle name. Dark Hiccup/OOC/slight deviation from film.**

**Prologue**

He could still remember it as vividly as ever in both his dreams and waking life. The flames, the screams, the overwhelming heat threatening to melt his face off if he did not look away. But he couldn't turn away, how could he?

It was the most horrifying yet entrancing sight his young eyes had ever known. His mother, on one knee while her arm was elbow deep in the belly of a Monstrous Nightmare still gripping her sword as the dragon's flames poured out it's roaring mouth and onto the viking woman before him. It was hard to tell who struck first- but it was obvious that they would share the same fate.

The blood that poured out of the beast sizzled and bubbled as it's skin engulfed itself in flames- a common calling card for an angry Monstrous Nightmare. He watched through the flames as his mother's face became more and more unrecognizable- turning pink then red and then black. Around him, a battle between vikings and dragons raged on, but he remained where he was until the end. He didn't even react when his solemn-faced father found him and lifted him up to check for any burns. Seeing that his son was physically unharmed, he held the boy to his chest and walked up the hill to his house. His face was unmovable as stone as he passed by sympathetic looking villagers.

Once inside, he dropped to his knees releasing his five year old son to stand on his own as he fell forward to all fours and sobbed. Hiccup watched his father with an unreadable expression as the usually stern man cried like an infant on the floor. After a few minutes, he turned to walk back up to bed only to be grabbed by arm and pulled into his father's broad chest.

Stoick held his son and starred down at the top of his head, covered in hair just like Val's. Hair that he would never run his fingers through again. When his sobbing had died down to a few stray tears, he stood up, still clutching Hiccup to his chest and carried him upstairs to put to bed.

Hiccup's eyes remained dry the entire time .

* * *

_Hiccup Horrendus Haddock the Third._

He was an odd boy, there was no denying that. But as a viking he was simply an antithesis. Scrawny, intelligent and quick witted; his oddball tendencies overshadowed those that actually made him have more in common with his community on Berk than they were aware of. He was stubborn- much like his father who was chief of the village. But his stubbornness was seen as an annoyance, a failure to comply with the rules and standards set before vikings.

The other thing that gave him more common ground with his fellow tribesmen was his need to kill.

Unbeknownst to those who looked upon him as a mere nuisance, Hiccup had a taste for blood instilled at an early age. It wasn't the same kind of need as those of his peers looking to prove themselves with scars and the head of their first dragon. Nor was it on par with older vikings who took part in the raids on the southern islands in the spring. Hiccup didn't kill for honor or protection or wealth- he killed for his own sanity. It was the only thing that kept him calm in the face of constant ridicule; without it he felt as though he would snap and start a fire in the crowded Mead Hall or release the captive dragons from the arena just to see what damage they could cause.

Traumatic childhood experiences usually had negative outcomes for the ones who witness said events. In Hiccup's case, watching his mother burned alive at the tender young age of five years old launched him into a lonely world of neglect and bitterness. He should've been mad at the dragon who torched her, or any dragon really; he should've let it fuel him to train like the other kids his age and swear revenge on all dragons. Vikings were killed in combat all the time, but he never saw anyone swear vengeance against a battle axe or give up their broadsword for a life of peace.

After the passing of his mother, Hiccup found himself more alone than ever. His father, always the weaker parent of the two, took to ignoring the boy- as if he were a problem that didn't exist. The other kids, whom he had been somewhat friends with, shunned his presence in their daily games due to the uneasy feeling of sorrow Hiccup seemed to exude. Overtime, their avoidance morphed into an acidic hatred and an unexplainable need to constantly keep the scrawny lad down. The rest of the village quickly got on the bandwagon. While his peers had mock battles and started combat training, Hiccup devoted his time to pranks, inventions, and the occasional mayhem. The Chief's son had earned his place as a scapegoat by the age of eight when he was caught kicking around the severed head of a kitten belonging to the Thorston girl. But the dirty looks from villagers didn't seem to deter him to change; his behavior only grew more antisocial.

He looked at his peers with distaste, so eager to please- so motivated to follow the same stupid, pointless path their parents and ancestors walked before them. If anything, he had more in common with the dragons they tried to kill- destructive, angry, hated by vikings.

No, Hiccup could not force himself to be angry at dragons. True, they were fearsome and destructive beasts who diminished Berk's food supply every other week and annihilated the homes of his fellow Hooligans. However, Hiccup couldn't accuse the devils of making his life the miserable wreck that it was. It was his father, his peers, and everyone else on the miserable island that ignored him instead of embraced him in the aftermath of his mother's death. The neglect sparked a deep hatred for the people around. With the exception of the gruff but well-meaning Gobber, he couldn't have cared less about the lives of the other vikings.

In the beginning, his blood lust was directed at animals; small game mostly because he himself was tiny for his age. Rabbits, fawns, the occasional "missing" pet; he could simultaneously satisfy the urge and score a dinner that didn't involve facing the other villagers in the Mead Hall with their cold glares and not-so-hushed criticisms. Although, it didn't look like Ruffnut would be getting any more kittens; a shame really. But he didn't really have a problem with Berk's wildlife, and as he grew older and (slightly) bigger, Hiccup became more and more eager to take a human life. After all, fun pranks did little to ease his dark thoughts.

As a blacksmith's apprentice- he had access to a plethora of sharp blades that could slice through human skin like butter. While he was only capable of wielding daggers and small hammers, Hiccup yearned for the day when he would grow big enough to handle the bigger weapons. Axes, longswords, maces – he could kill like a _true_ viking with one of those._ Or even kill a true viking _he would think to himself at times.

He was just a few days shy of thirteen when he took his first life; a plain faced Mead Hall worker who was unlucky enough to be the only other person in the building on a particularly infuriating night.

His few victims were always menial, overlooked vikings- people that no one would miss after a few days disappearance. Old, decrepit villagers or faceless mead hall workers. Despite his youth and too-small stature, Hiccup found that he could over power his victims somewhat easily if they didn't hear him sneak up on them. Total surprise and quick execution (literally), that was his killing style. The neater the better. There was no need to smash skulls into the stone ground or see how far blood could shoot out of a severed limb. No, for Hiccup the only tools he needed were a sharp dagger and a quiet walk. In fact, the most difficult part he found, about killing, was hoisting the body far enough into the woods without being seen. Thankfully, the wild boars and wolves in the forest would take care of what was left of his crime.

The people who were off limits for treatment were the village elders, the chief and his counsel, and (despite his own longing) his peers. Anyone who would be missed if they didn't return home at night was off-limits; no matter how much he wanted to give in at times...

**Next Chapter: Hiccup's transformation from nuisance to killer is revealed.**


	2. Boot Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 1: Boot Night**

Stoick the Vast was pissed. Pissed at his son, pissed at Gobber, and pissed at himself for not having the good sense to just strap the lad to the mast of a ship and send him off to some other tribe to deal with.

But then again, this wasn't an unusual occurrence.

He could hear the whispers as he stormed through the crowd gathered in the town plaza, sun still rising from behind the cliff side of Berk. _Spawn of Loki, Stoick's little menace, Hiccup the nuisance, Horrendous Haddock..._all the little nicknames his only child had gone to make for himself. The boy had yet to reach his teen years and already held several titles- none of them good.

Pushing his way past the front line of Hooligans, Stoick glared down at his boy as he stood emotionless besides Gobber, his mentor and Stoick's best friend. At twelve years old, Hiccup was weedy and much too short for Stoick's liking. His green eyes, so much like his mother's, stood out as the most striking feature of his perpetually expressionless face. The Chief sighed as looked upon his son; he hated how the disappointment he felt for his only child had become a routine emotion.

"So is it true then?" Stoick barked at the boy, doing his best to ignore the audience. If he were anyone other than the chief, he could chew his son out in the privacy of his own home. But that was a luxury he was unfamiliar with as it wasn't enough to merely punish the boy, he had to do it in front of the entire tribe.

Hiccup crossed his arms in front of his narrow chest and eyed his father with an unwavering stare.

"I don't know, depends on what your referring to." Stoick grit his teeth as a round of groans erupted from the spectators surrounding them. Gobber chewed his lip and shook his head, he was always the only one who showed sympathy for the boy.

The worst part about confronting his son for his wrong-doings was the obvious evidence that Hiccup was not afraid of him. A boy should cower in fear and shame regardless of his size when confronted with a disappointed father. But Hiccup hadn't reacted that way in years. His lack of fear wasn't born from arrogance or stupidity like Spitelout's boy. No, Hiccup's brand of infuriating fearlessness had morphed from the boy's own cold and uncaring demeanor.

"Hiccup..." Stoick shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was way too early to be dealing stress headaches that usually didn't appear until late afternoon. "Why did you find it necessary to sneak out of the house and fill everyone's boots with yak, er uh-" Stoick hesitated with the next word, sneaking a glance to see how many children were watching.

"_Shit_, you mean? I believe the word you're looking for is _shit_." Hiccup interjected, ignoring the gasps and snickers from his peers. Stoick's face felt unbearably hot in the cool morning air.

"Dammit all, Hiccup! The whole reason we have 'Boot Night' is so that we can air them out, not so you can pull another one of your stupid little pranks!" His frustration made itself known with his tone of voice.

"Little? Shoveling shit into the boots of over half the population of this island before sunrise is anything but a _little_ task, Chief." The boy replied calmly. In situations like this, he never addressed the man as 'dad' or 'father'; a habit that left a sour taste in Stoick's mouth. More whispers erupted amongst the crowd.

"I don't even know what to do with you anymore!" The bigger man yelled, "I send you off to clean out the chicken coops and the hens don't lay eggs for 2 weeks! I make you shovel out the horse stables and and their dung somehow finds it's way into your cousin's bed! I order you to help in the repairs of the homes destroyed in the last dragon raid and Mildew's lodge is vandalized with vulgar phrases and a very unflattering painting of his likeness on the side of his house!" Stoick rants, listing off his son's most recent 'accomplishments'.

Hiccup's lips quirked ever so slightly before he held up his arms and said, completely un-phased by his father's tone-

"I am the god of shit and petty pranks."

"You," his fat finger jabbing into the boy's chest, "are a pain in my ass that doesn't know when to quit." His words were cruel but held so much truth. Yet, as soon as they left his mouth he regretted saying them. People on either side voiced their agreement, some throwing out suggestions about how to better punish the young Haddock.

"And you," Hiccup countered, mirroring Stoick's pointed finger, "are a sorry excuse for a man who can't keep his own blood in line." The villagers ceased their own whispers, waiting to see how Stoick would reprimand the boy.

Hiccup's muscles were nearly nonexistent, but his words stabbed like icy steel through bare flesh. His wit and sharp words were like a weightless shield protecting him from the opinions of others.

"You can pray to the gods all you want, Chief," Stoick's eyebrow twitched at the too-formal address, "but they won't work you any miracles. When are you gonna accept it you old fool? I'm all you got."

Stoick bared his teeth.

"I ought to smack the teeth right out of yer head for talkin' to me like that!" Much to his annoyance, his son's face nor voice faltered as he shot back

"What are you going to do hit me? Go for it, I can't stop you. Let's give the village a show, bash my head against a rock until my brains start leaking outta my nose and my face is nothing but a bloody pile of cracked skull. Put a new spin on that stupid family tradition of _hitting your head against a rock_." He hissed, referring to his father's tedious (and probably bullshit) childhood story.

Stoick stared at the boy, speechless and uncomfortable. He almost forgot their exchange was happening in front of the entire village until Gobber cleared his throat.

"Home. Now." He said, trying to keep the disturbed feeling out of his voice. "I'll deal with you when I get back tonight. You are not to leave the house for any reason. I don't need this punishment to become some sort of spectacle." A few of Hiccups peers could be heard groaning in disappointment. Had any other viking child ever spoken to a parent like that they would be bent over the knee and belted on the spot. But to say such words to the chief (even if he was your father) was its own special form of treason.

Hiccup looked at his father apathetically before turning on his heel and walking in the direction of their lodge on the top of the hill. If the boy was at all nervous or ashamed, his firm footsteps didn't show it.

"But what about our boots?" A villager shouted out. Stoick turned and gave the man a cold stare.

"Clean them out the best you can and go about your day." He stomped off in the direction of the Mead Hall and one argued otherwise; they knew the chief's son would come to regret what he did without their help.

When he returned home in the late afternoon, Stoick did not Hiccup down from his room. He did not remove the thick belt from his waist and brandish it on his the boy's backside. Instead he jotted down a few words onto a scrap of paper, grabbed his pre-packed hunting bag and headed out through the back door and into the woods. After hearing the door slam shut, Hiccup walked downstairs to find a note on the table.

_-Gone hunting. Don't do it again._

Hiccup's usual nonchalance faltered into a state of confusion and what might've been sadness. It was evident that his father had given up on him by the lack of punishment for his crimes that morning. _The smell of yak shit on my clothes is punishment enough, _he thought in to himself. By the time he reached his late teens, he would most likely be stripped of his right to the chiefdom and exiled unless something out of the ordinary happened.

_Maybe I saved the village from total destruction instead of causing it for once?_

He scoffed at the thought.

* * *

A day later, Stoick found himself adhering to public demand and delivering a punishment to his son by revoking his apprenticeship with Gobber for a month and forcing him to assist the Mead Hall workers every morning and night. He was surprised when the boy reacted with a silent scowl instead of a blank-faced dry remark. The boy had a gift for shaping steel according to Gobber; Hiccup was always at his best inside the stuffy walls of the forge (as long as he didn't forgo his assigned work for his own insane projects). Despite all his short-comings as a true viking, the boy was not _completely_ useless.

Unsurprisingly, the punishment got off to a bad start. While he had been confined to his house for the past day- his peers and most of island's teenagers had been forced by their parents to clean up the result of his now infamous Boot Night prank. After he was excused from his nightly shift in the Mead Hall, he was pulled off the outside steps and thrown to the ground for a storm of kicks and punches from Snotlout and a few older boys while a young crowd cheered them on.

It would've been too easy had he ratted them out to his father, not to mention cowardly. He might've been a scrawny, foul mouthed nuisance- but he was no coward. The next day, with his afternoon free, Hiccup retreated to the forest, armed with his sharpest blade to check on the rabbit snares he had set up days before. Nothing soothed him quite like skinning a rabbit.

While his snares remained un-triggered by any unassuming rabbits, Hiccup angrily chucked his dagger at a nearby tree, frown deepening as the handle bounced off the bark of the tree and into a nearby bush.

"Oh come on!" he snarled to no one as he made his way over. He stopped, mid-kneel as he spotted the dots of purple that littered the bush. Berries, but not the kind you would want to eat. Gobber had taught him that one summer when he was younger and found out first hand how horrible the berries could be. They tasted sweet going down, but the resulting stomach problems were not at all pleasant...

His eyes brightened with inspiration.

* * *

Pies were a rare treat in the Mead Hall; most of the time the only dessert-like option for the Hairy Hooligans consisted of fresh baked, warm bread with fruit preserves smeared on top. After a brutal morning beat-down, it looked like the gods were smiling upon Hiccup for a change. It was almost too easy as he tossed in a few handfuls of berries into the mixing bowls while the mead hall women were distracted by the daily meat delivery from the butcher. Stoick, knowing his boy's tendency to tamper with anything of mild importance, made it very clear to his supervisors that Hiccup was not to assist in any food preparation that month. His tasks were limited to cleaning pots and scrubbing dirty tables.

It was remarkable how fast the berries worked; Hiccup was in the middle of sweeping under an empty table when the first viking started spewing chucks of pie back onto the plate he had just devoured the poisonous pastry off of. Passing it off as too much ale, everyone else who was able to claim a slice continued eating.

Hiccup almost lost his composure when Tuffnut shoved him out of his way while running out the front door, hand clamped tight over his mouth. As more and more vikings left to relieve their nausea (or loosened bowels in some unlucky cases), Hiccup continued on with his cleaning tasks as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Beneath his blackened eyes and fat lip, he allowed a rare, genuine smile to spread across his face.

_The god of shit and petty pranks, indeed._

In an unseen turn of events, the worst 2-day bout of shit and vomit that Berk had ever seen was wrongly blamed on bad meat. Hiccup was both relieved and agitated with the villager's ignorance; he had really been hoping that stunt would get him out of Mead Hall duty. Never one to lose his sense of humor, he merely resorted to smaller, less noticeable tampering with the village's food. Spitting on the mutton, pissing into the unguarded ale barrels, spilling his seed into a pot of creamy fish soup made specially for his peers after their first night on fire patrol during a dragon raid.

At the rate he was going, everyone in the village would have a "little bit of Hiccup " inside of them. The thought made him shiver with glee. But his prank spree came to an abrupt end after a strange confrontation with the village elder, Gothi.

The old woman had arrived in the Mead Hall that night for the monthly council meeting that took place after dinner. Because of her old bones, the elder was rarely seen outside of her home- and yet she knew every man, woman and child in the village. But it wasn't until that night did Hiccup become fully aware of how perceptive the elder truly was.

The hall was empty save for the council meeting and the few Mead Hall workers that stayed to clean up after dinner, Hiccup included. The meeting in itself was nothing exciting; merely a long, boring conversation between the chief, the elder, and council of vikings representing various interests in the village. Had they anything of extreme importance, they would've asked Hiccup and the others to leave.

"Guntherson, I trust we won't have any more quality control issues with the meat you provide to this village? Nearly half of the tribe were too sick to work as a result your carelessness." Stoick growled at the butcher.

"It's not right to place all the blame on me, chief. If I was sold bad livestock than isn't it one of the farmers truly at fault?" Guntherson shot back testily.

Hiccup bit his lip as he scrubbed out the bottom of a pot, laughter roared inside his head at the stupidity of the situation. He kept his eyes glued on the task at hand, but his ears, and thoughts were focused on the confrontation between his father and the unlucky butcher. He didn't notice the old woman watch him from her place at the table.

"You're a butcher! You should be able to spot bad livestock before you even remove the skin!" the chief barked, "practice a little more caution with your storage and slaughter choices going forward. I have enough on my plate trying to keep the village from going up in flames."

"Maybe if you got rid of your so-" Spitelout started before he was cut-off by the chief's cold glare.

"I was referring to the dragon raids!" he countered. "Is there any further business?" he asked tiredly, eyes shooting over to the elder. Gothi shook her head and motioned for him to end the meeting. As the bulk of the attendees got up to leave, Gothi walked up to the chief, beckoning him to kneel down and let her whisper in her ear.

Hiccup dried his hands on a rag and watched with disinterest as the elder murmured something to his father. The larger man stood to his full height and yelled out

"Hiccup!" The boy in question approached the two most powerful people in the tribe. "Escort Elder Gothi back to her home. It's too dark out for her navigate on her own." Hiccup nodded, not in the mood to kick the man while he was down and followed the old woman in her surprisingly quick footsteps.

As they made their way across the village, it became apparent that Gothi was capable of walking home by herself. She did not motion for Hiccup to hold her by the arm, and the boy made no move to do so. He was grateful for the old woman's spryness, it made the walk less awkward by being shorter. As they made their way up the winding steps of the old watchtower that housed the elder, the silence was finally broken.

"You are no viking." she said in her soft yet grisly voice. Hiccup nearly fell over in shock. It was a well-known fact that the elder never spoke aloud, preferring to communicate by drawing ancient runes with her staff or on a rare occasion- whisper to one person.

"Excuse me?" Hiccup had heard what she said, he had heard the same words all his life from various people. He just needed confirmation that she had in fact _spoken_ _at_ _all_. She continued walking up the steps, not even turning her head to look at him.

"You are no viking," she repeated, "You are not even fully human." His face hardened.

"What in the name of the gods is that supposed to mean?" Hiccup spat back, hot on the old woman's heels.

"A darkness reigns within you, and if you fail to control it, many will suffer."

Her cryptic words caused Hiccup to roll his eyes. _The rest of the villagers give the old bat more credit than she deserves _he told himself inwardly. He decided to play along

"Well...what if I want people to suffer?" he asked, a smirk ghosting over his lips.

Gothi paused as they reached the top of the long staircase and observed the young outcast with a tired smile.

"Don't be a fool, boy."

"Oh _you're_ calling me the fool? That's worth a laugh." He gave a short chuckle, "maybe darkness reigns within you as well, elder." Gothi's face remained unchanged.

"I highly doubt you'd be saying those words to me if your were father here." His smirk faltered. _One hard shove and the old croon will drop fifty feet to her death._

The elder's smile widened, as if his thoughts could be heard by her doubting mind.

"Control the beast that lives within you, Hiccup. Or it will lay waste to all of us."

"What beast? What darkness? Have you finally turned senile or are you just messing with me?" Hiccup sneered after her as she opened her front door.

"Remember, a single death of an important man is a tragedy. But the deaths of a dozen small folk are a statistic."

Before he could sputter out a response, the door had closed behind her.

* * *

On the night before his thirteenth birthday, Hiccup drudged about his duties in the Mead Hall with as little effort as humanly possible. It was the last week of his punishment for the Boot Night incident and he saw no reason to tire himself out with freedom on the horizon.

"Get back to work, boy! That floor isn't going to clean itself!" a young woman barked at him from her place at the table, prepping food for the next day's morning meal. She and Hiccup were the last ones in the hall that night.

Hiccup dragged with the broom behind him with more emphasis, but his focus remained elsewhere. His thoughts, as they had been all week, were still analyzing Gothi's words. What did they mean? What sort of darkness flowed through him, and why did the death of several people pale in comparison to the death of one great man?

The girl at the table coughed loudly into her elbow, as not to get spit on the pile of dough before her. Hiccup watched her through his bangs. She wasn't much older than him in the long run- early twenties it looked like. He couldn't recall her name, but she was just like any other younger girl who worked in the Mead Hall: unmarried, plain-faced, poor parents. All the women who worked in the Mead Hall were either widows or unmarried women. Girls from poorer families were difficult to marry off; the ugly ones even more so. Since they had no status or lands to offer a husband, it was only physical attractiveness that could save them from a life of spinsterhood. At least unmarried shield maidens had the honor of contributing in battle; these women had nothing to offer besides bread and over-cooked chicken.

They were insignificant, faceless cooks.

Hiccup's mouth dropped open in stunned realization. Surely the elder didn't mean? It was unthinkable! And yet, it was so alluring. His curiosity with cutting open animals had reached it's peek months ago; but a human...what did they look like on the inside? What did they sound like with a knife stuck in their throat? How much blood could they hold?

He reached into the pocket of his fur vest, palming the the handle of the dagger while glancing over at the girl. Her back was turned, shoulders rolling as she continued to knead dough. Quieter than a shadow, he made his way across the darkening hall. Drawing the blade out of his pocket, he kept his breath quiet as his quickening heartbeat threatened to give him away.

Despite his small size, he was confident in his ability to take her down. Yes, he was short and scrawny for his age, but the girl herself was also rather short for a woman of twenty years. Her body left soft by the constant presence of food and lack of combat in her occupation.

She barely made a noise when his blade ran across her throat; blood pouring out onto the mound of dough that covered the wooden table, rendering it unfit to bake and eat.

It all happened a bit too fast for his liking; the girl didn't shake or make howling noises of pain like the animals he butchered in the woods. But watching her lie face-down in a pile of dough that grew bloodier with each passing second held more beauty and awe than any piece of art he ever laid eyes on (there weren't many examples on Berk). A sense of content calmness washed over his normally frantic mind as he gazed upon his work before making any move to clean up.

For the first time in a while, he felt excited to be alive.

**A/N: Gothi's words were inspired by a similar quote from Joseph Stalin: "A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic."**

**Thanks to my reviewers**

**StorSpeaker: I draw my inspiration more so from _Dexter_ and _American Psycho_ than_ Sweeney Todd_: but they're all good works. Glad you like.**

**CrazyTobboy679: The Hiccup in this story has difficulty relating to other humans not necessarily because he doesn't fit in, but because he's a misanthrope (and a bit of a sociopath)...forming friendships and relying on others is not a high priority for him, but wait and see.**


	3. Flying and Bitterness

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 2: Flying and Bitterness**

From a young age, Hiccup had a hard time understanding people. It wasn't the facets of Viking life that were a mystery- he understood _those_ perfectly although he could not physically enact them. It was humanity in general he was lost on. Maybe that's why he bonded with Toothless better than any person on the island of Berk.

The dragon in turn developed a similar affection for the scrawny human who spared him his life. While he had spent his life attacking villages full of humans, Hiccup was the first one he ever encountered up close. He wondered if all humans were like the one who shot him down only free him. His small form and skittishness marked him as an easy target, and yet the boy always smelled of anger, fire and blood. A surprisingly accomplished hunter as well, the boy would usually roast a rabbit for his own meal while Toothless attacked a pile of freshly caught fish.

Hiccup in turn found himself fascinated by the Night Fury's deadly presence which would occasionally morph into the playfulness one might associate with a kitten. He didn't exactly understand why he freed the beast at first; his normally steady hands betrayed him as looked upon the dragon up close for the first time. It was like they moved out of their own accord as he sawed through the taught ropes. During so, his usual feeling of morbid satisfaction in such situations ebbed into empathy for the beast.

Originally, he intended to use the bola cannon for his usual mayhem- knock down a few of his peers maybe work on shooting birds out of the sky for target practice. But then he heard the familiar screech of the elusive Night Fury during a dragon raid, and inspiration struck. He quickly ducked out of the forge and onto the battleground, wheeling his latest invention to the nearest overlooking cliff.

Everything was going well, until that damned Monstrous Nightmare found him, leading to more destruction and ultimately ending in getting chewed out by his father in front of the entire village, again.

He knew he didn't care about killing dragons. When his father forced him into dragon training before leaving for his hunt, Hiccup had half a mind to runaway all together. Steal a small boat with supplies and set up camp on some uncharted island possibly. Of course the training had started off horribly; to no one's surprise. Any attempts he made to ditch training sessions or group dinners were instantly thwarted by Gobber.

But as his clandestine meetings with Toothless became more frequent, his success in the ring skyrocketed. Using what he learned from the Night Fury, he was able to jump to the top of the class without spilling a drop of dragon blood; much to the annoyance of Astrid Hofferson. It was a strange thing; being looked upon with admiration by his fellow Hooligans. For years, they wrote him off as a problem child who would eventually be exiled or killed by adulthood. Now, they praised him for his new "talent" and talked about his future as chief.

Hiccup scoffed at their sudden change of heart, knowing that at all times he was one screw-up away from being cast into his usual role as village nuisance. That's how it worked for these people. He could be a hero or hindrance but not both at once. At the age of fifteen, he has already killed nearly a dozen people, poisoned half the village, and destroyed multiple homes with his experiments from the explosive black powder he bought from Trader Johan last year. All these atrocities while avoiding being caught; Hiccup was far more dangerous than everyone gave him credit for.

Leave it to him to strike up a friendship with the most feared and elusive dragon mankind had ever known; a fellow monster in hiding.

* * *

"Alright bud," he said while removing his safety harness from his shoulders, "I'll see you tomorrow after training."

Toothless crooned from his spot on the ground and curled his tail around his body, fin covering his face. Hiccup watched the dragon for a moment before starting his long walk back to the village. The sun cast a reddish glow to sky but would surely be black with night by the time he reached his house.

Dragon training hadn't taken place that morning, but would resume again soon when the Chief returned from his hunt for the dragon nest. Much to his own annoyance, Hiccup was now a favorite for winning the honor of killing the Monstrous Nightmare, right in front of Astrid. Hiccup laughed at the thought; the girl had a huge stick up her ass when it came to his sudden success with dragons. That was the only upside to the whole situation; the smug satisfaction of showing up and simultaneously pissing off the best viking in his age group.

Of course, like most of the other teen boys on Berk, he had a male fascination with the young shieldmaiden. She had a pretty face, and her body while strong and lithe was beginning to shift in a more womanly shape. But that was it. Hiccup accepted that whatever feelings he held for the girl were purely physical; fuel to jerk off too when he had trouble sleeping. Her personality was rather dull and overly serious; there was no pleasing her and he saw no reason to try.

Upon reaching his home, Hiccup briefly stepped in and tossed his bundle of riding gear onto the steps to his room. With Stoick gone, there was no need to hide it like one of his Mead Hall victims. His stomach growled at the thought, realizing that he hadn't eaten since he woke up that morning. But it was late enough now that the Mead Hall was beginning to clear out. Despite his good mood, he was uninterested to being swarmed with misplaced praise by his fellow tribesmen. Closing the door behind him, he set off for the Mead Hall.

With training cancelled for the day, Hiccup had spent it with Toothless, testing his newest prosthetic fin while safely tethered to a strong tree. Unfortunately, near the end of the day, a miss-step with the new pedal control led to a small crash. While both rider and dragon were fine, Hiccup found himself tethered to the beast. The hook that connected his safety harness to the saddle had bent into a tight clamp, meaning he either had to find a pair of pliers or cut himself free.

Unwilling to sneak into the village with a Night Fury leashed to his waist, Hiccup pulled out a dagger and and sliced through the leather chaining him to the beast. The dagger he had used for years was currently lying at the bottom of the cove; a result of having to gain Toothless's trust. But being a blacksmith's apprentice, Hiccup was able to swipe a replacement from the forge; he didn't have the time to make a new one for himself with the chaos of his new popularity. Besides the final run, the test went well overall and Hiccup was confident that the next time he met with the dragon they would be able to take to the skies without a safety line.

The thought made his face crack into a rare, genuine smile. His experiments with flight had unlocked something inside him; he wasn't exactly sure what to call it. Hope, happiness, enlightenment- it didn't matter what it was. The feeling he got while seated upon Toothless, accelerating against the cold winds of Berk was unlike anything he ever experienced. It was an entirely different thrill from pulling off a prank or slicing open a human throat.

He wasn't just going through the motions when he flew, like he did with every other activity. There a connection that prevented him from doing so; he put his life in the hands (and wings) of a deadly beast and in turn was responsible for his safety as well. Toothless was more than a dragon or a cool mode of transportation; he was the only friend Hiccup had ever known.

"What are _you_ smiling about?" a cold voice snapped him from his thoughts. His eyes darted up to see Astrid standing before him. Her brow was sweaty and dirt was smeared across the front of her sleeveless tunic; obviously just coming back from her own training. Hiccup caught himself and shifted his grin into one if his signature smirks.

"What are _you_ pouting about?" he shot back.

"I am not pouting!" Astrid answered quickly, tightening her grip on her double bladed axe.

"Try telling that to your face then." Hiccup chuckled, side stepping the angry blonde. But Astrid, clearly not done with him yet, blocked his path.

"I. Don't. Pout." she declared, glaring him down. Hiccup sighed in annoyance, making sure to keep the smirk on his face.

"Whatever." he said and made another move to walk around her. But Astrid Hofferson wasn't one to back down from demeaning words. She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back to his place before her.

Now, he felt himself growing annoyed.

"Were you going somewhere with this?" Astrid snorted at his words and sneered

"Everyone else might be too dumb to see it; but I'm not." she lowered her voice "I know you're cheating in dragon training."

"Oh really, how?"

"You're acting weird," she accused, "well, _weirder_, anyway."

"Who died and made you the boss of normality?" Hiccup fired back.

"Where do you go to, anyway? Where do you run off too everyday after training?" she pressed. Hiccup's smirk fell and his eyes narrowed. Astrid noticed and allowed a smug little grin to appear, "What are you hiding, Hiccup?"

_Oh nothing, just a dozen human corpses, an impressive rabbit skull collection and a fucking Night Fury _his inner voice laughed.

He didn't like her questions, and he didn't much care for that satisfied look on her face, like she had caught him sneaking extra desserts. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in annoyance.

"Well?" Astrid pressed. His eyes darted back to her, never realizing they had left. He didn't feel like playing with her anymore.

"Piss off, I'm not in the mood for your self-righteous shit." A normal girl would've gasped in surprise before stomping off, maybe give him a quick slap across the face. But Astrid just stood there, angry eyes boring into him. The smugness had melted off her face, replacing it with a look of livid observation and distrust.

"What's wrong with you anyway? You don't even look at people when they speak to you; you look past them." he wasn't aware of doing that, nor was he aware of Astrid ever paying him any attention, ever. "What makes you so special? What do you think you know that the rest of us don't?" she fumed.

Hiccup noticed his eyes weren't focused on Astrid but rather on the wall of the building behind her. He shifted them to her face but felt oddly vulnerable staring into her icy blue eyes. He quickly shifted them back to the wall, hoping she wouldn't notice or call him out on it. But it was a useless effort.

"Hah! There, you just did it!" she barked while pointing an accusing finger.

In that moment, all he wanted to to do was pull out his dagger and run it across her throat. Could he even lug her body into the woods from the center of town? Maybe if he stole a wheelbarrow, or better yet- lure her to one of Berk's many cliffs and let gravity do the work. But another voice broke his thoughts before he could even dip a hand into his vest pocket.

"Hey Hiccup! Where have you been all day?" both teens turned towards the source of the noise. Snotlout and the Thorston twins approached the pair.

"Off training for your fight against the Nightmare? Everyone knows you're gonna win the right to slay it! Even Astrid couldn't-"

"Couldn't _what_, exactly?" Astrid snapped, cutting off Tuffnut's words.

"Uh...Even Astrid couldn't have saw that coming..." he finished lamely.

"So, what are you two up to?" Snotlout asked, trying to break the tension. "We were just on our way to the Ingerman's fields for a little late night yak-tipping! Care to join?"

Hiccup felt more annoyance than flattery from his cousin's invitation. All he wanted was to get away from his idiot peers, enjoy a quiet meal and sleep for ten hours.

"Thanks, 'Lout- but I was just on my way to the Mead Hall. I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Yeah, I noticed you weren't at dinner, again." Ruffnut added, smiling at him in a way that could leave a man blushing if he had true emotions. Astrid rolled her eyes and let out a small huff. "You on your way to the Mead Hall as well?" Ruffnut sneered at the shorter blonde.

"I was," she admitted, eyes shifting towards Hiccup. "But I lost my appetite." she said curtly before storming off in the direction of her house. He couldn't help but note how her hips still held a feminine sway despite her angry steps.

"Wow, cryptic." Hiccup muttered under his breath.

"She's just jealous." Ruffnut claimed, brushing off the awkward tension that lingered in Astrid's place. Hiccup didn't doubt that Astrid was a little bit jealous of his star status in dragon training. But he knew her suspicion and interrogation had nothing to do with that. She was paying attention to him, but not in a flattering way.

Perhaps she saw the same thing Gothi saw in him.

Hiccup shook off the thought and re-awakened to his surroundings. His once-hostile peers continued their conversation about how Hiccup's impending victory was eating away at Astrid's sanity.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." Hiccup muttered quickly before dashing off in the direction of the Mead Hall.

* * *

The hall was nearly empty when Hiccup arrived, but what food there was left was still hot. Grabbing a bowl of steaming fish stew, Hiccup plopped down at an empty table, doing his best to ignore a group of vikings drunkenly recapping his victory over a Deadly Nadder yesterday in training.

"Like nothing I ever seen before, the lad wasn't even armed!"

"The beast just dropped to his feet."

"Never seen that Hofferson lass so annoyed!"

Blocking out their voices, he turned his attention to the meal in front of him and let his thoughts drift to Toothless. He didn't even notice Gobber had taken a seat across from him and started talking until the boisterous man smacked the table to get his attention.

"Were you even listening to a word I just said?!" Gobber chuckled, "Only you, Hiccup. Only you could become a great dragon fighter overnight and still have the attention span of gnat!"

"Gobber! When did you get here?" He said sarcastically.

"As I said before, while you weren't listening, your father will be back any day now. Are you ready for the final test?" he asked with rare seriousness.

"Have I ever been ready for anything?" Gobber shook his head at his avoidance of the question.

"I'm serious, Hiccup. All eyes are on you- and for a good reason for once! You've been doing wonders in the ring and haven't pulled any large-scale pranks during your father's absence!"

"Which reminds me-" Hiccup started. Gobber raised a finger and cut him off-

"No! Whatever you're planning, don't go through with it. Don't ruin everything you've worked for!"

"Gods, Gobber. It was a joke." Relief swept over the older viking's face.

"Oh thank Thor. Lad, you can't take one step forward and follow it up with two steps back. People are actually expecting good things from you for a change! Don't you want to make your father proud for once?"

Hiccup looked up and shrugged, his mouth full of stew. Gobber sighed and continued on.

"In all seriousness Hic, your father never had much hope that you'd prove yourself worthy of inheriting the chiefdom. Not that it's your fault ya see," Hiccup rolled his eyes, "It's just that you've always been better at destroying the village, rather than protecting it."

"Well than maybe I should be a pirate." Hiccup said flatly.

"I'm being serious lad, don't throw away all that hard work in the ring just so you can piss everyone off and have a laugh. It's time to stop playing around, Hiccup. The man you are when you're in the ring; you need to be him all the time! So no more pranks and no more, er -uh" Gobber waved his hook hand towards Hiccup's form.

"You just gestured to all of me."

"Exactly! Now you're getting it!" Gobber smacked the table in approval, ignoring the subtle anger in Hiccup's voice. "And be sure to finish all of that, it wouldn't kill you to put on a few pounds before Stoick gets back. The man will think I've been letting you go hungry." He stood up and left Hiccup to finish his meal, good mood getting smaller by the second.

His knuckles whitened around his spoon.

Usually, Hiccup was quite fond of Gobber. The man had been more a father than to him than Stoick ever was. But, sometimes his blunt words struck a chord in the young viking.

Until now, Hiccup hadn't really thought about his father's return; they barely spoke to each other when Stoick _was_ around. Hiccup had grown used to his disapproving looks and meaningless lectures, but above all he was used to Stoick being away. But now he was no longer the village scapegoat, and instead placed in the role of Berk's next great hope against the dragons.

It suddenly dawned on Hiccup that he had no desire to fill such a role.

* * *

The next night, Hiccup made his way to the forge to decompress after exhausting day. He nearly died during his first flight on Toothless without a safety line- but the experience had been amazing. Without being tethered to a tree, the dragon had taken Hiccup to altitudes he never thought possible.

Exhilarating didn't even begin to describe the feeling of flight.

But the days events were pushed aside with the realization that Stoick had returned from his hunt for the dragon nest late in the afternoon. He saw a single ship had docked in Berk's ports; but his father had left with three ships, meaning the hunt was most likely a failure.

The last thing he needed was to be brought down by his father.

So he sat in his backroom, fiddling with a piece of charcoal and enjoying his final moments of solitude before Stoick hunted him down. He could hear muffled shouts coming from the Mead Hall, meaning a party was being thrown, perhaps to celebrate the chief's safe return. Hiccup hoped his father would be too drunk to bother finding him.

He sighed and picked up one of the many sketches of Toothless on his desk. For the past few weeks, spending time with the dragon had been like an escape from his bleak existence on Berk. It was more than the companionship and flying that he valued; he felt different when he was around the Night Fury.

When in the presence of Toothless, Hiccup found that he was less angry. His words didn't drip with the usual venomous sarcasm that made even Stoick uncomfortable.

He also didn't fantasize about killing people as frequently as he used to.

In fact, it had already been a full 3 months since he last took down one of Berk's faceless Mead Hall workers- a sickly looking spinster who always over-cooked the mutton.

Hiccup felt the hairs on the back of his perk up.

It dawned on him that he had a new weapon that could do far more damage than any dagger he ever owned. Toothless was a living, flying, cannon with an razor sharp teeth. He could take out the entire village in minutes on the back of the reptile. The middle of the day would be the best time to attack, dragon raids always took place at night, Berk would be totally unprepared and confused at the sudden assault.

He closed his eyes and he could see it.

Laying siege to the entire village with a plasma blast to every unsuspecting home. Fire consuming the houses of his peers as they helplessly gawked at the sight before them. Every man-made structure on Berk had been destroyed by dragon fire at one point or another, but he would ensure that the land surrounding would be scorched as well- destroying crops and blasting as many yaks as possible.

Leaving everyone with no homes or food to last through the bitter winter. His terror would leave it's mark.

The teen breathed deeply and opened his eyes. He could do it. It wasn't an easy task, but not impossible either. Maybe with a few more test flights and some target practice...

"Hiccup." he jumped at the sound of a deep voice, sliding back in his chair as he turned to see his father shove his massive form through the threshold of the forge's backroom.

He stuttered out a greeting, choosing to remain silent as Stoick rambled on about how impressed he was and joking about Hiccup holding out on him. He noticed how the chief's eyes were wide and sparkling with something he never saw before and struggled to not roll his eyes or sneer.

Normally, conversations with his father contained a lot of snarky comments from him and disappointed grumbles from the older man. But this time, he felt no desire to demean the man's intelligence or insult everything he believed in. It was late, and he was exhausted. He found it easier to just tune out the man's voice and nod, internally growling every time Stoick mentioned his previous failings or how "things will be so much better between them now".

The chip in his shoulder became deeper and deeper as the one-sided conversation dragged on.

**A/N: No Hiccup is not going to destroy Berk, this story contains deviations from the movie, but that nothing crazy. Boy was just day dreaming. Also, I chose not to have Hiccup kill Toothless in order to avoid being too AU. Working on the final chapter right now, but I _might_ decide to split it into 2 chapters. Can't say for sure when I'll have it done, it all depends on the creative juices.  
**

**Thanks to my reviewers**

**Matt: First off, read your reviews, laughed at them, and deleted them. If you don't like it, don't read it. Also, I don't mind negative reviews, but if you're not gonna be constructive than you're just wasting time. On a side note, people might like you better if you remove that self-righteous stick from your ass. P.S.- It looks like a few people enjoy reading this so called "trash" ;)**

**Fire From Above: The first uploaded chapter was just a prologue to set of the character of Hiccup in this story, the second uploaded chapter "Boot Night", describes the actual killing mentioned in the prologue.**

**josy darky: Glad you enjoy...Hiccup changing for the better? Wait and see...**

**StorSpeaker:Thanks. I've actually seen Maniac; excellent, gory film.**


	4. Breaking Point

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 3: Breaking Point**

Hiccup could describe Berk in three words: cold, boring, and dumb.

Even with the full integration of dragons into the Berk way of life, the sixteen year old hometown hero found his victory to be more draining than gratifying. He was no longer looked upon as "Hiccup the nuisance", but was regarded as one of the most important people in the village and the leading expert on dragons.

A year had passed since his epic battle with the Red Death, and Hiccup still found himself adjusting to the changes brought upon by the end of the 300 year war between viking and dragons. But his struggle was one that went unnoticed by his fellow Hooligans. He wasn't used to the positive attention that seemed to be spouting all around. People didn't scowl at him as he walked through the village and his once hostile peers had taken to following him around like he was their sworn leader or something. There were times when he regretted asking for their help in the battle against the Red Death; sure the chances of survival would have been much slimmer on his own, but being dead was better than being bored and agitated with popularity.

And Astrid; now there had been a 180 degree turn.

It was funny how the girl's unyielding nosiness had changed his fate on that night. He had been planning to make a run for it right after he had won the right to kill the Monstrous Nightmare that he couldn't care less about. But Astrid had popped and started her interrogation which thus lead to Toothless trying to blast her head off and an unscheduled flight wherein the young shield maiden changed her views not only on dragons, but of Hiccup as well.

Hiccup had never longed to have a girlfriend or get married; as a solitary being the thought of sharing his life with someone (other than a Night Fury) was laughable. But Astrid had somehow managed to worm her way into his life since the day he awoke after the battle with one less foot. And while her presence was at times annoying, Hiccup couldn't doubt that her beauty and occasional snark was enough to keep her around. The physical benefits of having a girlfriend also held their weight; no matter how detached he became as person, his teen hormones never took a break..

He had grown fond of the girl; he had always found her attractive, but now he found himself admiring Astrid for more than just her looks. She was fearless, intelligent, and nearly as stubborn as he with a tongue that became more sarcastic as days went by. But despite their growing similarities, he knew that he could never share everything with her. What he did to Mead Hall workers, how he viewed the world...

Who he _really_ was.

Mentally, he was never fully there- that extended to his physical being as well now, having lost part of his left leg in the battle with the Red Death. Being a teenage amputee didn't bother him as much as it would a normal person. Ever since he watched his mother consumed by flames- feeling complete as person was an unreachable goal. Hiccup felt the missing limb emphasized this fact in an ironic way.

His relationship with Stoick also improved, not that it could get any worse.

But all the seemingly good things he had in his new life didn't make up for the fact that he hadn't killed in over a year, and his restlessness to fulfill the dark urge was beginning to make itself known.

* * *

Astrid landed solidly on her feet in a crouched position after launching herself off her dragon and into another perfect front roll, simultaneously chucking her axe at unfortunate tree. She grinned breathlessly as she wrenched her weapon free from the wood and turned to her Nadder.

"I think I've had enough for today, Stormfly." she said, rubbing the dragon under the chin. "Let's get back to the village and get you some chicken."

As she and Stormfly kicked off from the ground, Astrid couldn't help but let her thoughts drift to a certain blacksmith's apprentice as they so often did when no one else was around to call her out on having feelings. It was amazing how her entire life changed in one flight on the back of a Night Fury. She had been so angry (and admittedly jealous) over Hiccup's rise in dragon training and his nonchalance on the matter. That day in the cove, she had been planning to ambush and torture Hiccup into admitting his secrets in the kill ring.

But a wrench had been thrown into her plan; a big, scaly, fire-breathing wrench at that.

Before that night, she had only ever viewed Hiccup as an annoying mistake of a boy that would never last long enough to see the chiefdom handed down to him. While Snotlout and the twins sometimes showed appreciation or awe for his past pranks, Astrid took to ignoring them. The last thing that boy needed was encouragement to be even more of a screw-up than he already was. But after her first flight on Toothless, Astrid's views on the boy began to change. After watching him almost die in the battle against the Red Death, her new outlook on Hiccup was cemented.

Astrid had never been the type of girl to seek out romance or the perfect man. She didn't think about her future as one with popping out babies and maintaining her husband's home; she'd rather devote her life to protecting Berk as one of it's fiercest warriors. But in the aftermath of the event's that took place at the dragon's nest, Astrid's opinion on relationships, marriage and love began to change.

Spending time with Hiccup was never boring to say the least. He was still an intelligent, sarcastic weed of a boy who brooded to much and refused to conform to traditional viking standards. But instead of repelling her, Astrid found these qualities to be very inviting; almost too inviting if one were to ask the Hofferson matriarch.

Despite the frigid Berk air, Astrid felt her face flush at the memory of several nights ago when her mother found the two teens necking behind her family's shed. Luckily she had not shown up two minutes earlier when Hiccup's hand was up her shirt.

As the village of Berk came into view, Astrid strained her eyes on one particular building, hoping to see skinny silhouette in the window of the forge. She grinned against the cold wind whipping her in the face and directed Stormfly towards the familiar destination.

She found Hiccup with his back to the door of the forge, polishing a dagger and looking off into empty space, clearly pondering something. Toothless dozed beside the blazing hearth, leaving her boyfriend unguarded at the moment. Astrid covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles as she crept up behind Hiccup and sharply grabbing him by shoulders and barking a gleeful "Hi Hiccup!" into his ear.

The young blacksmith lurched forward in surprise, jumping from his seat and spinning around with his dagger raised in attack-mode, polishing rag still clutched in his other hand. Astrid couldn't help but notice the guarded look in his eyes before he realized there was no real threat and lowered the dagger.

"Hasn't Gobber ever told you to never sneak up on someone working on a sharp weapon?" he caustically.

"Of course he has, but Gobber could knock my head off with a flick of his bad hand and you're...well you."

Hiccup raised his eyebrow in a way that she found comical and let out another laugh.

"What have you been up to?" Hiccup asked, changing the subject. She shrugged.

"Taking Stormfly for a spin, chucking my axe at some unsuspecting trees. You know, the usual." He nodded, turning his attention back to the dagger clutched in his hand. "Have you been here all day?"

"Yeah, ever since after my morning flight. Gobber went fishing with my dad and asked me to look after the forge, take care of any orders that came in during the day. Which by the way, they're weren't- unless you're hear for an axe sharpening." His voice was laced with an annoyed tone that Astrid mistook as sarcasm.

"No. I'm here for you." Astrid said firmly while shutting and locking the door to to the forge, hoping he'd get the hint and greet her properly. "So, I guess you had a lot of time to work on some crazy new inventions?"

"The time was there, but the motivation to do so wasn't."

"So then what have you been working on all day?"

"New dagger." Astrid rolled her eyes

"Cute." she muttered while hoisting a sword off the wall and giving it a few practice swings.

"Excuse me? How is that _cute_?"

"It's a dagger, Hiccup, not a longsword or double-sided battle axe," she explained, referring to her weapon of choice. She lifted the sword back to it's spot on the wall. "They're good for whittling and cleaning under your fingernails, but not much else."

Hiccup clenched his jaw as he watched her from behind. Astrid turned around and gave him a leering grin before striding across the room and bringing her face close to his, eying his lips. He quickly side-stepped her and tucked the dagger into the inside pocket of his vest, walking over to kneel beside Toothless to wake the dragon from his slumber. She huffed and rolled her eyes at his avoidance.

"Oh come on, I didn't mean anything by that."

"Huh?" Hiccup asked, looking up at her from his spot on the ground. Toothless cracked open one big eye and lifted his head with a yawn. She raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you anyways, you seem kind of...skittish." She knelt beside him and held a hand to his forehead, checking for a fever.

"I'm fine, it's just," he let out a sigh, "it's just been a long day." he finished. Astrid smiled lightly and ran her hand from his forehead back through his thick auburn hair. She weaved her fingers firmly into the tresses and pulled him close, molding his lips to her own. Hiccup allowed her the sentiment before pulling back to quickly for Astrid's liking.

"Well, okay. That's an alright start." she whispered. Astrid stood up from, bringing Hiccup with her and placed her hands on his broadening shoulders, pushing him against the edge of a work table. She turned her head to the side and brought her lips to his yet again.

Hiccup brought his hands up to rest on her waist and returned the kiss with a minimal effort that he hoped she wouldn't notice. Astrid, fooled by his actions, pressed their bodies closer and shoved her tongue past his lips. It wasn't until she wrapped a strong leg around his remaining full one that he pulled away.

"What's wrong? Did you hear someone coming?" she asked breathlessly, turning her head to the closed door of the forge.

"Huh? No, I just-" he reached to palm his forehead, "I actually do have a headache that's not getting any better. It started off as a small one, but it's just gotten worse as the day went on." His inner voice scoffed at the excuse; he sounded like a wife trying to get of sex with her annoying husband.

"Oh," she tried to mask the disappointment in her voice as concern. "Well I was about to grab some dinner at the Mead Hall. Come with me, maybe some food will help." Hiccups eyes glazed over at the mention of the Mead Hall, his thoughts drifting to the people who worked (and used to work) there.

"No," he shook his head. "I think I just really need to lie down and sleep it off." He motioned for Toothless to get up and opened the heavy door of the forge. Astrid warily followed the boy and his dragon out into the chilly night air.

"Ok, well feel better." Astrid said, "You'll be at the academy tomorrow, right?" she asked, stepping beside him as he mounted Toothless. He turned and gave her a tired smile.

"Of course." without waiting for any response, the two kicked off the ground, leaving behind a scorned but thoughtful Astrid.

* * *

Hiccup paced the floor of his second story bedroom while fiddling with his newly made dagger in his restless hands. With the war against dragons over, the time he spent in the forge was mostly limited to constructing saddles and modifying his and Toothless's prosthetics. It had been months since Gobber asked him to come in just to help out with weapon orders. The older blacksmith mostly dealt with dragon dental work now.

He had been meaning to make himself a new dagger for a while; ever since he chucked his old one in the cove to win Toothless's trust. But his new life kept getting in the way, not only keeping him away from his blacksmith duties, but from his clandestine activities as well. Before, he had no trouble sneaking off. People either didn't notice his disappearances or they did but didn't care enough to question it. It had been over a year since he killed; and it was becoming harder and harder not to snap in public.

Had it not been for the dragons, he would've broke down a lot sooner. The need to train and incorporate dragons into life on Berk had been a great distraction from his blood lust for the first few months after his coma. Hiccup liked being in control; what was more in control than training dragons?

But, the dragons were adapting faster than he could've guessed and his duties at the academy became nothing more than babysitting the other teens. It made him nauseous to think that a year ago his only worries were which prank to pull next; now he was expected to not only behave himself but keep Snotlout and the Thorston twins in line.

Most everyone looked at him differently now; the only people who didn't were Gobber (who always had a soft spot for him) and Gothi. the elder hadn't uttered a single word to him since that fateful night three years ago. Whenever he did see her, the old woman would always give him that same knowing smile as if to say - "I see what the others don't." He didn't have to wonder if she still saw that same darkness in him; he felt it every waking moment.

Like most everyone else, Astrid was also blind to what he was. He had feared she would uncover the truth about him the more time she spent at his side. He thought back to their confrontation a year ago when she almost caught a glimpse of his true nature. But Astrid couldn't see it; all the fanfare and happy chaos of life with dragons distracted her from ever truly seeing what he was.

He eyed the dagger, it held a better quality than his old one which was turning to rust at the bottom of the cove. The blade was longer, and single-edged with a slight upward curve at the end of the blade that would make slicing through flesh smoother. Running his thumb along the edge, he smiled through the hiss of pain as the metal parted the top layer of skin.

Looking out his window, he groaned at the thought of another busy day that left no escape for him to be on his own.

* * *

"Alright guys, the dragon stalls are a disaster zone, so we need to spend the morning-" Bang! Hiccup jumped in surprise as a loud crash cut off his train of thought.

"Ow! That hurt! That hurt very much!" Tuffnut wailed.

"Did you get them?" Ruffnut asked her brother as he lifted himself off the ground.

"Does it look like I did, idiot?"

"Don't call me an idiot, shit brain!"

"Don't call me shit brain-"

"Would you two shut up?!" Astrid snapped, "Hiccup is trying to-"

"What were you guys doing anyway?" Fishlegs interjected.

"Snotlout stole our boots and hung them up there." Tuffnut explained, pointing to the 2 pairs of boots suspended from the metal cage that enclosed the training ring.

"So I'm making Barf fling Tuffnut up there to try and grab them like this-" Ruffnut turned to her Zippleback and pointed to her brother.

"What? No, Ruff I'm not ready to go agai- AHHHH!" the male twin's complaints were drowned out by his screams and the laughter of his sister as the Zippleback grabbed the back of his vest with his teeth and sharply jutted his head upwards, releasing Tuffnut to go crashing against the metal bars and back down to the hard floor.

"You didn't even try to grab them that time!" Ruffnut growled at her brother.

"Hehehe...idiots." Snotlout sniggered from his place a top Hookfang. Hiccup groaned in annoyance and pinched the space between eyes. He had woken up that morning to find a lengthy to-do list for the academy from his father and he had little faith in his peers to be of much use.

"Hiccup, everything alright?" Fishlegs asked, the only person to notice Hiccup's aggravation.

"Could you please just end this stupidity?" Hiccup asked.

"No problem." Fishlegs hoisted himself onto his Gronkle and hovered up to the entangled boots, unlacing them from the bar and dropping them onto the heads of the still-fighting twins.

"Thanks Fishlegs, now as I was saying-"

"Huh, why didn't _we_ think of that?" Tuffnut thought aloud as he shoved his feet into his boots.

"Do we really need to answer that question?" Snotlout cackled. Ruff and Tuff exchanged identical looks of ire before charging at Snotlout, tackling him to the ground. The trio began trading blows and insults on the floor of the training ring. Fishlegs chuckled in amusement while Astrid crossed her arms and smirked at the sight of Snotlout's face being rubbed into the dirt by Ruffnut. Hiccup's clenched his teeth.

This was all too regular occurrence at the Berk Dragon Training Academy, and he had-

"Enough already!" Hiccup barked, "Get off the fucking ground right now!" he grabbed a fish from a nearby barrel and chucked it at the trio in frustration.

Snotlout and the twins froze in their places and looked at Hiccup in surprise.

"What are you idiots fucking deaf?! I said get your asses up!" he yelled with an authority no one had ever seen in him. The three teens scrambled to their feet.

"Hiccup are you-"

"No I am not okay, Astrid. I'm pissed off!" The other teens eyed him with confusion and awe.

"Whoa...you yelled." Tuffnut pointed out.

"You never yell." Ruffnut added.

"Pff, what's got you so cranky?" Snoutlout huffed. Hiccup let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Well I think it's safe to say everyone had a part in that this morning," he took a step closer to his cousin, "but it looks like you're taking home the grand prize today."

"You're point?" Snotlout asked, boredom dripping from his voice.

"Look, we have a lot to do today and I need everyone putting in their full effort if we wanna get everything done by sundown; starting with cleaning out the dragon stalls." he shoved a pitchfork into Snotlout's hands to make his point. The bigger boy gave him a cocky smirk before unceremoniously dropping the pitchfork to the floor.

"Why should I take orders from your scrawny ass?" Fishlegs let out a gasp as Ruff and Tuff chuckled at the situation.

Hiccup clenched his teeth and eyed him coldly.

"Because 'Lout, I've managed to end a war, integrate dragons into everyday life and learn to live with only one foot all in the past year. What have you accomplished in that time frame? Finally manage to _yank it _twelve times in one day?" he asked while making an obscene gesture with his hands. Astrid let out a shocked laugh as the twins crumpled to the ground in cackles.

"Why you-" Snotlout brought made a fist and began to raise it, but Hiccup saw his intentions and acted first, stepping right up to his face, jerking his head back and slamming his forehead right into his cousin's nose. He stumbled backwards, clenching his bloody nose in obvious pain.

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs yelped.

"Whoa." Ruffnut and Tuffnut said at the same time. Snotlout kept one hand cradling his broken nose while the other took a clumsy swing at Hiccup's head, not noticing that he was standing too far away to land any blows. The dragons warbled their own shock and confusion off to the side.

"Get over here so I can kick your ass!" Snotlout croaked through the pain in his voice. He clenched both fists, letting the blood drip from his nose onto his shirt and charged. With a black face, Hiccup stood firmly where he was, only to side step the charging teen at the last moment and stick out his right foot. Snotlout tripped and went sprawling to the ground.

He could've stopped right then and there and ordered the other teens to get to work; he had gotten his point across while at the same time taking Snotlout down a few pegs. But Hiccup didn't feel like playing nice that morning. He looked at his cousin, lying on his back on the ground and delivered a sharp kick to the boy's side, being sure to use his prosthetic foot.

The other teens stood in shocked silence as Snotlout groaned in pain as the metal appendage jabbed him in the kidney with a strength he didn't know Hiccup could muster. He breathed heavily, willing himself to not cry and rolled on his side feebly. They had seen Hiccup get publicly yelled at by his father multiple times in the past and the boy had never found the need to yell back. They also never saw Hiccup physically attack another person before.

Hiccup became aware of the odd looks being sent his way and turned on his heel, storming towards the exit. Toothless followed his footsteps and lightly nudged his rider's side with his head as a comforting gesture only to be pushed back with an impatient roughness from the boy.

"No Toothless, stay." the Night Fury grumbled sadly and sat back on his haunches as Hiccup continued on his way.

"Hiccup where are you going?" Astrid shouted. The boy in question did not look back, but merely raised a hand in a flicking motion as if to say- _don't follow me. _"Hiccup!" she growled and began stomping after him.

Fishlegs grabbed the girl's shoulder and stopped her.

"I really don't think it's wise to follow him right now." he pleaded.

"What the hell was that?" she asked sharply, motioning to Hiccup as his figure became smaller and smaller in the distance.

"I have no idea. Let's just let him cool off and get started on cleaning out the stalls." he suggested.

"He yelled, Hiccup never yells. What's up with that?" Tuffnut pointed out.

"Ans he kicked Snotlout's ass!" Ruffnut cackling as Snotlout rolled onto his hands and knees and started vomiting , "He should do that more often!"

Toothless crooned sadly and looked to the woods where Hiccup had stormed off towards.

**A/N: It's been a little while since the last update, and I have no idea when the next (and most likely final) chapter will be published. I'm about half way done with it at this point; I'd like to get it up before xmas, but don't hold your breaths.**

**Thanks to my reviewers**


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